Author's note: At four days (July 24 - 28), this is now the longest interval between Don't Keep Your Distance chapters so far. I've learned a hard lesson: I don't enjoy writing extended dialogue scenes, nor does at least one vocal follower enjoy reading them. It's especially drudging with depression and real-life arguments such as I've had over the past few days. As a result, this chapter and the next one may seem a bit rushed, but I feel that's better than dragging it on further, in the interest of the story picking back up before I lose motivation to write altogether. Thanks for being understanding.
"Hey, Star, where do ya think you're going?" cried an authoritative little voice. Star heard its name and turned around in confusion, then shrunk back a little.
It took Paint a couple of seconds to recognize the two children, but only that. She was vaguely glad to see them, but only that.
"Star, you promised you'd come back and play with us yesterday!" the female panda cub, whom the voice had belonged to, protested. Her brother held their old ball expectantly, bouncing it over and over, only a couple of inches up, in his hands. He looked like a hungry child who had been denied dinner and was only now receiving it.
Star hung its head at them, then at Paint as it whistled apologetically with an upward intonation.
"Of course you can play with them!" she assured. "Tonight's about tying up loose ends, and if yours involve ball-playing, I'm not about to cut the tetherball from its leash." After a quick burst of gratitude, the three athletes took off together gleefully.
The night continued in predictable fashion, punctuated by the occasional trip to the snack table amidst the routine socialization. Finally, as their last patron of the night, the all-important judge showed up.
"Hello, you all," Amethyst greeted pleasantly.
"There you are! I was wondering when, at long last, we'd finally get to you. Here, I'll show you 'what I must do'." Paint hugged the official tightly, causing her cheeks to turn... an identical, but more contextually justified shade of red.
"Yes, I like you, too, Paint."
"So what are you gonna do without her around to provide can't-miss courtroom drama?" Maxwell chided.
"Well, that never occupied too much of my time, so I suppose I will be continuing with my other administrative jobs, none of them major either," Amethyst admitted. "As for my remaining time... well, I can't really be sure. Arrowhead, your parents may not show it now, but they will be very empty without you."
He looked at his feet apologetically. "Yeah, I know..."
"But maybe I will try to rekindle my relationship with them."
This brightened him up; he was happy for them. "Hey, yeah! You can learn as much about exotic fungi as we know! ...Well, maybe a basic grounding in this amount of time, but something..."
She smiled and nodded. "Something like that. This place as a whole will be emptier without you fi- Hmm, where's Star gone off to?"
"Star's just enjoying itself and playing with the panda twins..." Jewel muttered wistfully. "Aww, I just wish I could just set all of my doubts aside and be happy in the moment like that."
"Oh, I think Star's worried, too; now just isn't the time for it to show it," Paint soothed. "Star's one big tangle of nerves, but momentary fun takes precedence."
"Yeah, don't remind me," Maxwell grumbled. "Despite its rough exterior, courage escapes this little one. Much to learn, much to learn..."
Amethyst quietly asserted, "Star won't abandon you; it will still protect you when you need it. I'm sure of it."
A curious whistle wisped its way into the conversation. Star had heard its name.
"Hi! Are you done with those kids?" Paint asked.
The robot closed its eyes to mimic slumber, then set one hand a few feet above the ground and mimed walking. While helpful in the abstract, it turned out an unnecessary gesture: Paint swiveled her head around to see a larger panda carrying his two sleeping children off, one on each shoulder.
"Star, I don't mean to pick favorites, but I wonder if we will not miss you the most. Of course you have your own calling with your friends, but it has been nice having a kind of protector around. I think the danger is about gone, but you have still provided us a sense of security that will be difficult to replicate with animals alone."
Star cooed softly in sadness, but Paint stepped up to bat: "It's not so bad. Maybe you can adopt the fearlessness that I know this little one has, even if it doesn't always want to show it. Not that you'll need it in a placid locale like this, anyway. And besides - as you said, Star's protecting us! Hehe."
Amethyst yawned and concurred, "Yes, I am glad. But I'm afraid I can't 'protect' you all with my presence any longer. I do not believe I am alone, either..." And she was right; Paint hadn't even noticed, but the only locals who were still around were packing up.
"Alright, good night," Paint responded. "You've gotta be awake for your... uh, ruling, haha." Amethyst had been running on spare energy; she slumped off with very little of it. Paint herself was growing sleepy - the bonfire was long reduced to embers, and only a few torches remained against the enveloping night sky.
Nonetheless, it was too bad that the folk of Sunny Clearing were not ones for partying wildly, least of all when the sky was this far from being either sunny or clear. And so the dispersal of the locals for the last time left Paint unsatisfied. She had focused so hard on fulfilling the concrete task of a mental spreadsheet of farewells that she was not left with much when all boxes were checked.
There was, however, one more lingering thread for the night, and she was not even the animal who vainly swung her needle the hardest to catch it. Arrowhead's father was, with his wife, slowly heading back home and leaving his son and his friends to make it back whenever they chose. When Arrowhead protested, though, his father met him with a knowing, even mischievous smile.
"Alright, Dad, now is it time?"
"...Time for what?" He knew.
"You know..."
"What do I know? I know lots of things. I'm an educated man."
Maxwell interjected, "Whatever you wanted to show us, wart-hog! Or was I right that you don't have anything? I don't want to be right."
"Oh! That. How silly of me; I must have forgotten," he comically equivocated. "Here they are." He opened the sack and pulled the artifacts out.